Partyin’, partyin’, yeah.
Fun, fun, fun, fun.
In the afternoon I went to Shoreditch, because the brilliant Cocknbullkid played a gig at Rough Trade. Watch the video. She's amazing.
Because it was only 8pm after the gig, and I wanted to go to another party later, I decided to get drunk in a restaurant to pass the time. Naturally.
After several cocktails, I had a nice chat with the waiter. He told me I look like a Latvian Eurovision contestant. This made me so happy, because that is one of my life goals. Which I have accomplished now. Go me!!
Actually, he meant a specific lady, called Triana Park. I looked her up, and I like heer style, even though the outfit she's wearing in that picture would make me look like a giant cotton ball. On wheels. Maybe that's a good look?
Anyway, the waiter even called up his friend to get me the name of Triana Park, and he was so lovely and chatty that in the end I got confused whether he just was a gay sweetheart or whether he was, um, hitting on me. Nevermind.
When I was reasonably drunk I made my way to Soho, because I wanted to go to a party at the W hotel. On my wayI walked past a karaoke bar and heard someone belting out 'Poker Face'. The wobbly vocals had a strange allure to me, so I went inside, had a glass of wine, got a lapdance, sang a Kylie song, and left again. Straight after I sang. Because I didn't had enough alcohol to face the reactions to my awful murder of 'I should be so lucky'.
The party at W hotel I went to after was a bit weird: lots of the usual London club kids in an extremely posh hotel bar. Apparently it's 'guestlist only', but none of the 20 bouncers I walked past checked actually who I was.
It was sort of fun though.. I met a gorgeous drag queen who told me all sorts of drag secrets, even some stuff I didn't want to know. About tucking and stuff. If you don't know what that is, google it.
|dragtastic. by Daniel Lismore.|
When i went to the bathroom, and a girl with long legs and blonde hair was there who looked vaguely familiar. Ok, not vaguely. I did watch the whole first season of The OC religilously. I even forced my friends to watch. Can we please not talk about this? Anyway, the following conversation took place:
Me: 'Hey, you look like Mischa Barton'
Girl, with a tired smile: 'I am'
Me: 'Oh...' I want to ask her if she is upset that Rachel Bilson's boyfriend on the OC was much hotter than hers. Probably not a good idea. I want to ask her where she got those glasses from. But she is not wearing them, and I don't want to admit I read Perez Hilton. I have no idea what to say to her, because I am completely clueless what she has been doing during the last few years, apart from, umm, wearing sometimes interesting clothes. I also got the OC theme tune stuck in my head. Californiaaa....
Mischa: 'I like your top!'
Me: (It is actually a dress..nevermind..) 'Oh, wow, thanks! I like your, umm..' her outfit is kinda understated, unfortunately, nothing I particularily like..help!!..oh.. 'I like your bracelet!'
Mischa: 'Oh, it's actually a CUFF'
Me: (Gee!) 'Ah, um... how do you like the party?'
Mischa: 'I like it!'
Me: 'I think it's a bit boring!'
Mischa: 'Oh yes it is, isn't it.. but I loooove the way they are dressed, like, really outrageous!
Me: 'Oh, you mean Daniel Lismore? He's fab!'
Mischa: 'Oh yes, that's probably the one I just met, he looks amazing.'
We smile at each other, and I am actually starting to think that she's a really nice girl.
Me: 'What are you doing in London?'
Mischa: 'You know, visiting my family over here and stuff' Her face closes up, and she uses the hand drying machine. Probably to get rid of me, which is fair enough.
Later that night, Mischa's friends ask my friends, who have cameras, to take pictures of her. That seems a bit strange: The result is amazing, though. See below. Seth Cohen would approve.
|Mischa and a friend, taken by my friend Joie.|